Star Wars: Missing in Action
by Rhysati Ynr
Summary: You've all heard on HNE how it was the Jedi that won the Battle of Geonosis, but what about us clones? We're the unsung heroes, and here is my story about what I lost on that day...a great deal...


Star Wars:  
Missing In Action

Written by Rachel E Hayler

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...

Another cerulean beam burst out from behind the crag of rocks that Republic Commando 7283 and his brothers, ripping the head casing of an advancing battle droid into a thousand shards. This was followed by a triumphant whoop over the com-link from trooper 6372, "36!"

7283 found himself smiling despite the situation. 6372 still had a way of brightening up even the most dismal of circumstances. "Adenn, _ner'vod_, don't tell me that you've been keeping count?"

"Of course," 6372, or known as "Adenn" within the squad, replied in a shout. Their _buy'ce_, helmets, were designed to block out all harsh noises, but when their were explosions rattling so close to you that you could feel the ground quake through your boots and feel the shrapnel pepper your armour plates, then even an internal com-link was going to get disrupted. "Almost beaten my training record."

"Less chat and more shrapnel, ner'vode," interjected a more sincere voice into the conversation. Though all clones were supposed to be identical, there was a slightly lower pitch to this brother's voice that proved this fact was not exactly true. It was the voice of RC-1139, or known as "Orar" in private. "I can't concentrate when there's no one watching my six."

"Alright, alright, ner'vod. Udessii," Adenn replied with an oddly cheerful tone to his words as he dropped down flat onto his stomach and tracked their resident sniper through the scope of his Deece, a DC-17 blaster rifle. "Just keep moving. I've got you covered."

7283 tried very hard to keep his attention on the battle ahead of him, levelling his own Deece and battering a moving droideka with a hail of blaster bolts. The rolling monstrosity didn't slow in the slightest, but it did stop, deploy and offer and assault of its own. The clone commando hit the dirt, cradling his blaster like a small child as the destroyer droid's bolts ripped into the air above him. He had no need to call for assistance, as fire from just over to his left rippled into the droid's shield, distracting it from blasting his head off. As the droideka dropped its shield to try around and eliminate this new threat - it couldn't do so with the shield fully operational - a bright green bolt rained down from the sky and split it in two.

Orar was the Mando'a name for thunder, and after hearing the explosive _crack_ as the droid disintegrated from the lightning like bolt, it was clear how this brother had earned his name.

A cracking shot he may be, but a new burst of fear rippled through 7283's stomach as the nearby droids turned and hailed fire up the cliff face that Orar had been using as his prime sniping post. He knew that his brother would be alright, but the returning fire was getting more and more accurate as the battle progressed. And to make things worse, this was their first battle. Well, real life battle anyway, and it happened to be true for the rest of his brothers as well.

Although he and his squad mates were more intensely trained than the average clone trooper, bred to be the best as their training sergeant had often said - the lovable drunk Sergeant Kal Skirata - that knowledge didn't stop the fear for his brothers burning in his guts. 7283 had become the informal leader of his squadron, _Vod_ squadron as Kal'buir had dubbed them, at the very start of this mission. _Vod, _translated from Mando'a to Basic meant "comrade", and there was no better way to describe the relationship between himself and the other members of his squad.

7283 had inherited the name of "Aran", which meant "guard" in Basic, when translated from Mando'a. He was proud to hold such a name because he was known for doing whatever it took to get his brothers safely out of danger. He had certainly proved that on that eventful, live fire exercise where the final member of the squadron, RC-4376, had been locked down tight in a bunker by the enemy. It had taken a lot of creative and explosive thinking by Aran to get his brother out.

RC-4376 had since been known as Cuyan, or "survivor" in Basic, and he was the squad's kit and demolitions man.

And right now they needed some of the luck that he had had back then when rescuing his brother. Their current battle terrain was unlike anything else that they had endured during their training. The open expanses of deep orange desert that formed most of the Geonosian landscape around them were complete death traps. Not just from the oncoming droids, oh no, but the lethal cannons of the capital ships that were hastily retreating up into the smoke streaked sky. There was the occasional jutting up piece of rock that he, Adenn and Cuyan were now hunkered down behind that provided them with some adequate cover from the hailing blaster fire. They had even been fortunate enough to find a towering cliff that Orar could snipe from.

To his military trained eye, the landscape had some great combat oriented features...all to the disadvantage of the Republic army. The dark orange sand made his shiny white armour stick out like a beacon amongst the barren landscape, not matter how many blackened blaster points and dust plastered the armour. He still felt as conspicuous as a krayt dragon in a herd of nerfs. At least the armour could take a fairly decent known against it and still remain functioning correctly. Another marvel of Katarn engineering that he had begun to appreciate greatly over the past couple of hours.

The only advantage that they had found was Orar's sniping post, and even that had its drawbacks because he had to move after every shot to avoid detection.

So Aran did have plenty to fear, but instead of letting it use him, _he_ was going to use _it_. Fear kept the adrenaline pumping, which kept him alive and alert even when fatigue threatened to overwhelm him. Bred to be the best, and that meant staying on top of his game.

"How's Orar holding up, Adenn?" the clone commando asked as he flipped over to the grenade attachment on his Deece and took aim at the group of droids that were the biggest threat to his brother, prepped to fire.

"Pretty well considering the _nadala_ fire that's going up at him," Adenn replied, though half of his words were cut off by the sound of the grenade that he had launched. More droids exploded and rained a mess of metal fragments down on their heads. He could hear it clanging down his armour plates as he tried to shake them off.

Even after the explosion, the remaining droids still kept firing at Orar whilst now directing their attention to them too. If they weren't careful, they'd run out of ammo pretty soon.

"Save your grenades, gentlemen. I've got an idea," the voice of Cuyan spoke over their helmet com-links. "Orar, do you still have some of that det tape that I gave to you?"

"Some, but not a lot." The sniper's heavy breathing could be heard easily over the com-link, showing the exertion that he was going through to stay alive. "And I don't like the...sound of that. What do you have in mind, ner'vod?"

"A little excavation work. String the tape along the top of the cliff and get clear. I'll tell you when to blow the charge." As Aran looked over to his left he could see that Cuyan was squatting on his haunches, moving his hands apart as if measuring a distance. "Sir, if you-"

"Don't even think about it," 7283 cut him off sharply, knowing exactly what his brother had in mind. "That's a stupid idea, and you know it."

"Sir, it's the best plan that we've got," the demolitions man protested as he pointed a gloved hand futilely towards the cliff face. "It'll take two seconds for your grenades to hit the bottom of the cliff, plenty of time for me to distract the droids as you give that cliff a new face."

"It's too risky, Cuy'ika," Adenn agreed with his "leader". That was surprising in itself, seeing as he was usually the foolhardy one. "Even_ I_ wouldn't try it."

"If it helps Orar and causes a dent into some Seperatist pockets, then I'm all for it." Cuyan had now flopped down onto his stomach as fire from yet another droideka punched into the air above his head, fumbling with a line of super sticky det tape as he wrapped it around a grenade that was resting in his outstretched palm. He checked that the grenade was deactivated and then loaded it back into his Deeces grenade launcher chute. "Aim two grenades at the base of the cliff and fire on my signal - not before or after otherwise _I_ will be the one needing a new face."

"Come on, think straight! We'll call in for some air assistance and be on our way." The _Vod _leader couldn't let his brother do something foolish. He was determined to return home with everyone intact.

"And how many other squads do you think have had that idea?" The det man was back up in a crouch again and scanning the top of the cliff through the scope of his Deece. "No, I've got to do this. Orar, sitrep?"

"Det tape is...down...and I'm...retreating...now...Progress is...slow...though. I've...take a shot to the...leg." The pain was clearly audible in Orar's voice which caused a shared exhale of guilt from his brothers to follow shortly afterwards.

"Good man. Keep it going, brother. Help is on its way." Cuyan looked over to Aran and Adenn and tossed them a quick salute, his voice quaking with fear a little. "I...I'll see you soon, Sir."

And before anyone could protest, the clone commando had leapt up to his feet and was sprinting towards the base of the cliff. Aran barely held his fire against the onslaught of droids as their attention gripped the new target. His stomach doubled up in knots as the shots missed his brother by feet, then inches, then centimetres. The det man returned fire with a droids blaster that he had acquired from somewhere. He wasn't really hitting anything, but that was the point. All he needed to do was for them to stay in place and remain focused on him, and then the rock slide would deal out his revenge.

He was about half way along the base of the cliff face when a shot caught him in the upper thigh, in a gap between his armour plates. He tripped and rolled head over heels, smacking hard against the rocks before he came to a stop lying vulnerably flat on his stomach. He shook his helmet and Aran could see him aiming his Deece to a rocky outcrop on top of the cliff.

"Fire now!" Cuyan yelled, and his brothers had to obey.

There was a tremendous _whump_ as the two grenades exploded at the base of the cliff and a further ear-shattering blast as the det tape at the top of the cliff imploded. 7283 was knocked back by the sudden pressure wave of escaped gravitation potential energy and landed unceremoniously on his _shebs_. He scrambled back up to his feet a moment later, sudden urgency willing him to check that Cuyan was alright.

The plateau that they had once been fighting on didn't exist anymore. There was a steep slope of brown and flecked orange rock that had completely flattened the droids that had once been attacking them. There was also no sign of Cuyan.

"Cuyan, do you read me?" Aran pressed a gloved hand to the side of his helmet as if it would aid him in hearing his brother in any way. "RC-4376, can you hear me, Brother?"

"Just...bout...sir," Came a very muffled and distant voice over the com-link, like a whisper in his ear. He had never been so relieved to hear his brother's voice. "This...armour...can take...quite...hit."

Across to his right, Adenn had righted himself and was smearing a thick layer of dust off of his visor. "Cuy'ika, you're a gutsy little di'kut. Not to mention completely dini'la. Are you alright?"

"Taken...hits to...leg, shoulder, arm and...helmet." His list of damage was pretty extensive. "Other...perfectly...alive."

_Cuyan indeed_, Aran thought and then motioned to Adenn. "Alright, vod'ika. Sit tight. We'll meet you on the other side." He paused to and had to ask. "And...how the osik did you survive that explosion?"

"Fired...det to...top...cliff. Disabled one...anyway. Climbed up...d...tape...that was stuck to it."

"Creative and explosive thinking at it's finest. Good work. We'll see you soon." The two commandoes bound up to their feet and broke into a run to get to the other side of the cliff.

The trek around the base of the cliff was strenuous. Even though they were ducked down behind the rocks and outcroppings that surrounded a narrow trench at the cliff's edge as they tried to reach the other side, fire from yet more oncoming droids sprayed out to get them. They were osikla everywhere! Aran's helmet beeped suddenly, and a cursed formed up on his lips. Someone - something has got a lock on him.

_Keep moving. Just keep moving._

"Adenn, something's got a lock on me. You got any dets left?" He called forwards to the clone crawling forwards ahead of him.

"Fresh out, Sir." Not the answer that he had wanted to hear. "POA?"

POA - plan of action. Osik, they needed one of those now - and quickly. Most of their ordinance was on top of the cliff with Cuyan - which rendered them useless in this circumstance. The problem with lock-ons was that due to a droid's supreme programming, it meant that their fire was even more accurate - almost like a starfighter's targeting system. They stood no chance!

The trouble with droids, however, was that they fought alone and not as part of a traat'aliit - a squad - like clone commandoes had been trained to do from birth.

"Traat'aliit gar besbe'trayc," one wise man once said - their training sergeant to be exact - and that was certainly running true today. _The squad is your weapon_.

His brothers were his advantage - and the droids disadvantage.

A shot sprang off of his back plate then and pitched him forwards onto his stomach, emphasising the point about a droid's accurate fire. His armour absorbed most of the hit, but he knew that he would have a mighty bruise for weeks afterwards.

"You alright, Sir?" He looked up from his sprawled out position to see that Adenn had stopped and was looking back at him, a concerned tone to his voice over the com-link.

"'Lek, brother. Just testing out Katarn engineering. Get moving before this really turns shabla." Aran pushed himself up into a crouch after yelling k'atini - suck it up - to himself and barely missed a shot that could have sliced into his leg.

He was glad that he was wearing a helmet so that his brother could not see the colour that had drained from his face. Too many close calls in one day were starting to take a toll on his confidence.

A second beep then arrived over the com-link, and Adenn cursed more poetically than his "leader" had. "N'osik! Lock-on!"

Wayii, now they really were kriffed. 7283 felt like stripping off his armour and giving the droids an easier target to shoot. He was osiked anyway, whatever way he looked at it. But no - he had to keep going. He was Aran - the guard - and he had to get his brothers through this. The squad was his life, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing any of them.

Suddenly, he heard something drop down behind him. He spun in less than a hundredth of a second; Deece raised and level as his finger dropped down into the trigger-guard, prepped to fire. But when he saw the burning glow of a blue shaft of pure laser energy, he froze out of both awe and shock.

It was a Jedi Knight - a real Jedi! He'd never seen one up this close before, but this one was clearly not looking his best right now. Dirt plastered whatever areas of his skin that were visible from beneath the Jedi's light tan coloured tunic, and even that had clearly seen better days. The man's midnight short hair was now flecked with orange in places where the dusty rock had nestled upon him, but his vivid blue eyes were flashing with an emotion that the clone identified as...amusement. But why would someone be cheerful in the middle of a battle?

"Good to know some of us are still alert," the Jedi flicked his gaze between the Vod leader and his brother. "What are your names?"

An automatic response burst out of Aran, "Republic commando 7-"

The Jedi raised a hand, interrupting him. "Not your numbers. Your names. I know that you have names."

7283 was even more confused than ever. The Kaminoans had not asked about that sort of thing, ever. "Uhh...I'm Aran and that's Adenn."

"And I'm Jedi Knight Tom Darklighter." Master Darklighter gestured to the pair of them. "There is a transport on the way to come and collect you. The droids are in full retreat. Round up the rest of your squad and get to whatever RV point you arranged."

Aran nodded and slowly muttered, "Yes, Sir."

The Jedi grinned and tossed them a salute before bounding over the rocks and into the fray all around them. A simple hand gesture got Adenn moving again and the two soldiers scrambled across the remaining distance to the edge of the cliff.

The Vod leader turned and looked back over his shoulder to see how the Jedi was doing. There was a mass of droids surging upon one point, and at its center was a single beam of cerulean ambience, whipping around in patterns that were so quick that the clone could barely see the individual strokes of the blade. His training sergeant had told them about how Jedi tended to fight, but he had never told them how..._beautiful_ it could be. A bullet of deadly light was playing out before him, and he was completely captivated by it.

That was when the blue light winked out.

"Osi'kyr!" Aran cursed. "The Jedi is down! We've got to help him."

Adenn's voice came over the com-link and his statement stopped the Republic Commando as he started to advance, "It's too late, Sir. My sensors aren't picking up any life forms over there."

7283 slowly lowered his Deece, staring out at the surge of droids enclosing where the Jedi had once been. The teroch - pitiless - droids were still firing - making sure that the powerful being decided not to bother getting up again. The clone commando felt at once disgusted and sickened, and barely quelled an urge to gain some vengeance for the Jedi Knight. He may only have known the man for less than a minute, but any being that would so willingly give up their life for someone else demanded his full respect. And that was something that those skragging bucket heads weren't showing him.

A comment sprang up from his conscience and he barely registered muttering under his breath, "May the Force be with you, Jedi."

"Sir?" A deeply pitched voice asked over the com-link and Aran turned to see their resident sniper limping towards them.

Adenn walked up to the clone and gave his brother a back-slapping embrace. "Good to see you alive, brother. Are you alright?"

"No injuries that will keep me out of action." Orar looked between the two of them, and then asked, "Where is Cuy'ika?"

That got Vod leader's full attention. "He's not with you?"

"No, Sir." The sniper shook his head. "I haven't heard from him since he told me to lay the det-tape."

"Well, where is -" The clones were all flattened against the ground as a _massive_ explosion ripped into the air above them. The huge shock wave sent shards of the cliff tumbling down around them, but none were close enough to hit them.

Once the tremors had quietened, Aran opened his eyes and found himself to be looking at a dust-smothered visor. Growling in annoyance, he wiped the dust away and felt his imminent anger boil up into turmoil. With a timid hand, he reached forward and plucked a single white shard from some rock rubble ahead of him. He did not need to turn it over to know where it had come from.

Upon the white piece of plastoid where the numbers and letters of "RC-4376" scrawled across it in orange paint.

Cuyan...

The roaring engines halted him. He could not remember being hauled to his feet by his brothers, nor setting foot upon the LAAT/i gunship as it soared off into the laser-ridden sky. That was when he became conscious of the grip of his squad mates on his shoulders as if they were trying to support themselves, not just him.

This couldn't be happening...

A regular clone trooper approached them with a datapad in hand as he asked, "Numbers."

Once again, the response was automatic from Aran, "RCs 7283, 6372 and 1139."

The clone nodded his pure white helmet and looked down at the shard in Aran's hand, then began to make inputs into the datapad. "And RC-4376, killed in -"

"No!" The Vod leader growled, gripping the clone roughly by his left shoulder and thrusting his free, gauntleted fist under the chin of the man's helmet. They both knew about the razor sharp blade he had in the knuckle plate of it. "No. Missing in action. He's not dead!"

The clone nodded slowly as Aran released him and moved quickly away.

The Vod brothers sunk to the floor at that point, silence encasing them until they were interrupted by words from a nearby ARC trooper.

"Ni su'cuyi,

Gar kyr'adyc

Ni partayli

Gar darasuum."

"_I'm still alive,_

_But you are dead_

_I remember you_

_So you are eternal."_

Aran closed his fingers around the white shard and felt his chest droop down against his chest bone. Cuyan couldn't be gone. He was just missing...missing in action...


End file.
